


Feel You Near

by allofspace



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofspace/pseuds/allofspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place at the end of the Merlin series finale. Merlin has waited centuries for Arthur, but when he finds him again, there is an unexpected twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been an idea rolling around my head since the finale happened. I finally got around to finishing the first chapter. Thanks to Audrey for her amazing editing and having words that make sense when I don't. Title taken from the song "To Be With You" by The Honey Trees.

Of course, Merlin thought, the one time Kilgarrah didn’t speak in riddles would be at the very end of his journey. Arthur’s lifeless body was too heavy and cold in his arms at the time to really appreciate the dragon’s straight-forwardness. Merlin had stayed by the edge of the lake for a long while after pushing the boat away with his magic. He tried to cling to what the dragon had told him, but his grief kept tangling it with Arthur’s final words: “there is nothing you can do” slurred into “it’s too late”; “Arthur will rise again” became “just hold me”. But worse, infinitely worse, “some lives have been foretold” alternated with “thank you” until Merlin was ready to crack under the strain.

Merlin stared out at the water, watching as it shimmered with pink and orange sunlight, which eventually dulled to cold, silver moonlight. Merlin looked down to his hands, which were covered partly with dirt and partly with Arthur’s dried blood. He knew he had to go back to Camelot soon, knew he’d have to tell Gaius he’d failed, but he couldn’t stop the tears running down his face. The moon was high and bright in the sky before Merlin got up from his knees, his joints sore from being still, and he went back into the forest. He felt a stabbing pain in his heart as he turned his back to the lake, like leaving it behind was truly the final act of giving up. He slowly made his way back to Camelot, no longer having to fight back tears because he felt so completely numbed. Whether he was just incapable of feeling anymore or had simply run out of tears, he wasn’t sure. When he was finally dragging his feet along Camelot’s cobblestone, Gaius was rounding a corner in the courtyard and spotted him. 

Merlin only cried twice more. It wasn’t when he told Gaius, not even when Gaius held him close and told him it wasn’t his fault and that he had done all he could. It was later when he went to talk to Gwen, who had heard of Merlin’s return and that he was alone. It was seeing her somberness and acceptance, as though she’d just been waiting to hear it confirmed. She had smiled at him and told him that she was glad Arthur’s life ended in Merlin’s arms, if it had to end somewhere. And with a single tear rolling down her cheek, his eyes welled up once again. He made his exit quickly.

The next time was later that night, alone in his bed, clutching his lumpy pillow. He cried because he knew what he had to do next. He cried because he missed the weight of Arthur’s body in his arms and because the pillow did little to replace the feeling. He woke up early the next morning and packed his few belongings. Gaius was out picking herbs and Merlin felt uneasy leaving without a word to Gaius, but he also didn’t like the idea of any more goodbyes. As he walked toward the outer walls of the castle, he heard his name being called. He looked back to see Gaius, not at all looking like Merlin would have imagined. He didn’t look angry or hurt or confused, he looked like he knew where Merlin was going and that he’d never see him again. Gaius raised his chin and held up a hand. Merlin bit a shaky lip and raised his hand back in response.

“Thank you, Gaius,” Merlin whispered under his breath and turned away.

++

Merlin spent many days wandering, not knowing exactly where he was going, just that he couldn’t stay in Camelot. He knew Gwen would be a good queen, and with Morgana finally dead there would be little to threaten the kingdom. 

He spent a few days in villages he passed by, healing the wounded and offering some necessary supplies. In some of the more wealthy villages, he would offer his services and ask only for more supplies to restock his kit. He visited his mother for just a short time. He told her what happened to Arthur and he didn’t let one tear fall down his cheek. His face was mostly a mask, showing no sign of the turmoil stirring inside him. She patted his head and knew he wouldn’t stay long, and knew she would not see him again. She told him it was in his eyes, that he looked lost and sad, that a mother could see these things. He only nodded, unable to argue with either point. 

In each village he did the same as his last night in Camelot. He used his pillow or his pack, depending on what was available, and pulled it tight to his chest. He dreamt of Arthur, of past and future and everything Arthur would ever be. He never remembered the dreams in the morning, waking with only the returning sense of loss. 

Merlin grew old as he travelled, never staying in one place too long. He aged so much slower than everyone else. He started to go by the name Emrys not long after he’d left Ealdor. As far as he was concerned, Merlin belonged to Arthur, Emrys belonged to Albion. He watched many cities rise and fall. Sometimes he would help in one or the other, and sometimes he just watched. His name became known and feared by everyone, and Merlin liked that for a while, until he got older. He became tired and no longer wanted to be feared as his energy drained from him like the magic drained from the land. Then over centuries his name became a legend, and then just a story. He grew old and laughed bitterly when he saw his reflection looking just like Dragoon, only now it was his true form and not from magic. Merlin cursed Kilgarrah, angry with him for making Merlin have hope. Hope that he’d ever see Arthur again. Merlin was getting old now and that was that. He’d waited for so long and he would never see Arthur again.

Merlin grew into a bitter, old magician and he accepted that his “destiny” was all a cruel joke. That is, until one day, when Merlin woke up feeling younger. He looked at himself in the mirror with a raised eyebrow (which always reminded him of Gaius). He didn’t look any younger. He poked his face.

“Hmm, does my skin feel tighter? I may have had more wrinkles yesterday, hmm. What century is it?” he asked the empty room. He tapped on jars and stirred various concoctions and potions around the small hovel he was living in. He then threw a finger up in the air as if he’d had an epiphany, or maybe just testing wind direction. “The 20th century. Hmm, yes, interesting, interesting,” he murmured to no one in particular. Over centuries of being mostly alone, Merlin had become accustomed to talking to himself. He used to bewitch animals to talk, but he found that mice were rather boring conversational partners - he could only discuss cheese for so long. He talked to a whale once, which was actually rather interesting, but these days it was rare to find a whale willing to stop and talk. And the whale’s cryptic conversations reminded Merlin a bit too much of Kilgarrah anyway. 

Merlin continued to get younger after that, and faster than he’d ever grown older. “No, it can’t be… but it must… mean something, surely. I musn’t get my hopes up,” Merlin would mutter to himself every once in a while.

Merlin was suspicious of his de-aging and had learned many tricks over the years. He conjured spells and potions, and grumbled at useless crystal balls. He had collected many magicless objects that regular people had invented over the years. He investigated their authenticity every once in a while, but as time had gone on, magic had filtered out of the Earth and he felt more and more alone. He’d found no helpful answers in any of his queries.

In the early 21st century, Merlin felt his magic tingle. He was at the physical age of a 45 year old and talking to an apartment manager about renting a place “for his son”. Merlin knew he would continue getting younger, so he started preparing, hoping that soon it would stop, or at least slow down. He didn’t know how much younger he would get, but he figured it was about time to start reintegrating into society. He’d been checking the cupboards in the kitchen when a rush of pins and needles ran through his fingers. Of course, he’d had his magic the whole time, but it had lost its glimmer and excitement over the centuries. His magic had not stirred like this since Arthur had died. Merlin shivered as he stared at his hand.

“I’ll take it,” he announced to the landlord whose expression immediately changed from annoyed impatience to rather pleased. Merlin had been living in a forest through a secret entrance to an elaborate underground home that was impossible for any regular person to find. He left most of his magical belongings there and brought only what he would need. 

Merlin was pouring his tea one morning when it stopped. He felt it stop. He’d finished growing younger. It was as if there had been a ticking timer in the background, like white noise, that he had never heard, until it finally stopped and he could hear only its absence.

Merlin stood still for a second, closed his eyes, and breathed in. He finally let himself become accustomed to the body he would be living in now. He went to the bathroom to look in the mirror and inspect his face and skin. He was around the physical age of 26. He didn’t remember this age too well. It was quite early on in his long journey, but he was content with how he felt. He felt refreshed and strong and agile and maybe even a bit goofy and clumsy and buzzing with energy. He stretched his limbs and wiggled his fingers, feeling the familiar tingle of magic and smiled. 

Merlin had accumulated a decent amount of wealth over the centuries. His old gold coins had become worth more and more as time went on. It was hard keeping up with modern currency, but he did his best. He’d started a bank account as early as possible and passed it on to himself pretending to be his own grandchildren, etc. However, when Merlin got settled in his apartment, he grew rather bored. So he decided he might as well go get a job just for something to do, and it also helped with the whole “integration into society” thing. He didn’t know if or when or how he would ever find Arthur, but he was fairly convinced it wouldn’t be while sitting alone in his apartment. But the fact was, Merlin was more sure than ever that it would happen soon. It had to be why he stopped de-aging, and why it even started in the first place. He had tried to continue to act suspicious of it, but as he got younger, it was as if his heart reverted back to those hopeful, youthful days. Nowadays, he would be trying to sleep when the thought of seeing Arthur again would stir in his mind and he would have to bite his lip and try not to smile too hard. Merlin was sure he wouldn’t care what brought them together, seeing Arthur again would be worth everything he ever endured. 

Merlin had just ended a shift at the library and decided to stop by the shop on the way back to his flat. He bought some essentials (tea, apples, candy), and some pasta as an afterthought. He carried his reusable bags down the streets in the city whose shops were closing up. He passed a small café he’d never noticed before, tucked between two bigger shops. The front window was sunken in to make room for two small tables out front, which a girl was bringing into the shop for the night. Merlin shrugged and noted that maybe a scone and tea sounded good for tomorrow’s lunch. 

He went home and cooked the pasta, eating as he read a history book he’d checked out. He liked to go through them and scoff at all the falsities and dramatizations. Merlin was smug about things like being the only one currently alive to know who really wrote those Shakespeare plays. After he cleaned up, he went to the couch with his candy, really one of the world’s better modern inventions, to watch a movie. He woke up the next morning uncomfortable with sugar spilled on his shirt and his mouth tasting like cotton. He must have been more tired than he’d thought, as he’d fallen asleep in his clothes in an awkward position and hadn’t stirred all night. 

He yawned and stretched and brushed his teeth and showered… and brushed his teeth again. He felt much better after that and decided it would be a good day to clean his apartment. He didn’t have many things, but what clothes he did have got strewn around his flat carelessly. Merlin used his magic to clean his clothes, not that he couldn’t spare the quarters to use the machines, but what was the point really? He never bothered to learn how to use such things. He probably depended on his magic a bit too much, he knew Gaius would have never approved of doing his chores with magic, but Merlin was old enough that he could choose to be lazy if he wanted. When his apartment was as organized as he would let it get, he checked the time and his stomach rumbled a bit. Eleven AM seemed a good enough time for that scone and tea. 

Merlin walked to the small, hidden café which now that he noticed it had a very nice charm to it. Bright light and warm autumn colours painted the walls. Sunshine streamed in through the vines that crawled over the windows. There were a few people about the place, but it wasn’t busy. Merlin wasn’t surprised since he must’ve walked past it a number of times without ever noticing. He ordered a tea and scone and happily sat down with a newspaper. He didn’t bother with much of the newspaper but he liked the crosswords and comics.

Some customers came and left and Merlin was just finishing his scone when he got a small shiver over his body even though it was quite warm in the café. He filled in 17 across then looked up to slowly gaze around the place. Then his heart stopped. 

Merlin would have wept at the sight if he could do anything but stare with his mouth open. All broad shoulders, chiseled jawline, and blonde hair; he looked so much the same. And he was smiling, showing off the crooked teeth that only somehow added to his beauty. He was standing at the end of the counter, waiting to get whatever he’d ordered, wearing sunglasses even though he was inside. 

Merlin wanted to run to him yet couldn’t move all at the same time. His legs felt weak as he stood up and walked toward him. He found himself almost incapable of speaking. He hadn’t spoken the name in so long, in hundreds and hundreds of years.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s voice was just above a whisper.

“Yes? Sorry… do I know you?”

“You… you don’t remember me, then?”

“Uh, sorry, can’t say I recognize your voice. Have… have we met before?”

Merlin could tell something was off, but couldn’t immediately sense what. Then he finally made the connection. Wearing sunglasses inside wasn’t Arthur being a prat, Merlin realized, Arthur also had a walking stick attached to his wrist. 

Arthur was blind. 

How? How had this happened?

“Yes. Well… no. Not exactly. I’m… Merlin.”

“Odd name, that. Merlin,” Arthur said slowly, as if he was testing the feel of the name on his lips. It made Merlin ache all over. 

“Yes, well, I had best be off I think,” Merlin said, not knowing what else to do. He didn’t know what to think. How was he supposed to deal with this if Arthur couldn’t see him? Couldn’t remember him.

“Well, it was nice to meet you Merlin,” Arthur said as he stuck out a hand. Merlin looked at it and smiled softly.

“Yeah, you too,” and he grasped Arthur’s hand firmly. Almost instantly, Arthur pulled his hand away, hissing as though he’d been burned. His breathing was suddenly heavy as he leaned against the counter. 

“Arthur, I… Are you okay?” Merlin had no idea what just happened, but it didn’t seem good. Suddenly another voice came from behind him.

“Arthur! Arthur, are you okay? What happened? Excuse me, who are you?”

The last question had been directed at Merlin. But Merlin couldn’t answer as he was too busy staring in shock at the woman who’d been speaking. 

“Gwen,” Merlin whispered, barely audible.

“Sorry, do I know you?” She asked with one eyebrow raised. She had one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and the other on his hand now. 

“No, no you don’t,” Merlin was saying as he backed away. “I’m very sorry, I hope he’s okay,” he said as he spun around and left the café.

“Well that was… odd,” Gwen said as she turned to Arthur. “Did you know that guy?”

“What? Oh, I… No I don’t think so,” was all Arthur could finally answer.

“What happened? It sounded like you burned yourself or something.”

Arthur could hear the worry in her voice. He had no idea what to tell her though. How could he possibly explain what had just happened when he couldn’t even understand it himself? The small touch had been like a jolt of electricity that had sent colours and images and scenes to his brain. It’d been so long since he saw any colour or light and it was all gone too quickly.

“I’m fine. Where did the man go? Merlin.” Arthur had only now just registered that the mysterious boy had left. How would Arthur ever find him again? Everything that had just happened and that Merlin had said seemed odd, and then the visions when they shook hands. Arthur needed to find him. He needed answers.

“Uh, I’m not sure. He just sort of left in a hurry,” Gwen said removing a hand from his to gesture toward the door. “Seemed a bit distraught. You sure you’re all right?”

“As long as you brought me my coffee I’ll be just fine,” Arthur said as he tried to regain his composure so Gwen could stop her worrying. Then she handed him a hot cup of his favourite drink and he thanked her. “Oi, don’t you need to be off on your way to Lance? Picking out flowers or some ridiculous thing like that?”

“Arthur, flowers are a very important part of a wedding,” Gwen replied with a bit of exasperation. “Perfection takes a lot of work.”

Arthur could practically hear the grin in her voice. It’s funny how being blind affects your other senses. It took him a while, but he’s had quite a long time now to get used to it. He’s been told he has excellent hearing. 

++

Merlin flopped down onto his bed. He had left the café in a rush and he speed-walked all the way home. He screwed his eyes shut and took slow, deep breaths, trying to figure out what the hell happened back there. It had been like a magical surge through his body, almost like static electricity between them. He’d waited so long to see Arthur again, and apparently his magic felt the same starvation for Arthur’s touch. Merlin breathed and rubbed at his head. It wasn’t even his little magic outburst that bothered him the most; it was Gwen. Gwen had been there. Kilgarrah had never mentioned anything about that. Merlin had waited centuries, and he thought he'd been waiting for Arthur. Merlin wasn't sure what he'd ben expecting, but after such a long time alone, he'd just been hoping for Arthur. For his king. But of course Gwen was here. Of course her and Arthur were together. Merlin was always destined to be at Arthur’s side, acting as guardian and nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin sort of spies on Arthur, but is definitely not a stalker. Talking inanimate objects and really horrible social skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story would be garbage without the ever-perfect Audrey helping me WORDS.

Merlin finally rolled onto his back after groaning into a pillow for longer than he’ll ever care to admit. He’d calmed himself down and decided to try not to act like a petulant child about all of this. If this was his destiny, then so be it. Merlin looked at the blue clock on his bedside table, displaying the time in blocky green numbers and realized it was getting late. He turned back to face the ceiling. The fact that Arthur was alive again and in the very same town as he was should be comforting. It should be enough for Merlin. He ran a hand through his hair trying to push aside the thought that no, it really wasn’t enough. He sighed heavily. He still couldn’t think about the run-in with Arthur and Gwen that morning without making his heart thus heavily in his chest. He really was excited to see Gwen, she had been his best friend a long time ago. But he hadn’t been waiting all this time for a friend, Merlin admitted to himself. 

He closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened them he realized the only thing for him to do was to keep an eye on Arthur. He could just make sure things were going well and that his life wasn’t in any mortal peril, and maybe Merlin could feel a bit better about things. It was already pretty late though, so he decided to go to bed and start fresh in the morning. 

It was his day off, but he still headed to the library where he worked. He didn’t have his own computer because, honestly, he’d never needed one before and he hadn’t paid much attention to technology as the years went by. It hadn’t seemed that important, but he was quickly learning that, in fact, it was. Trying to integrate back into society was mostly easy, but it was the technology stuff he couldn’t really get the hang of. He mumbled to himself about spending too much time in caves and that he should’ve seen this coming, though he was a bit disappointed that it was the 21st century and there wasn’t anything that spectacular yet. He was used to things like trains and cars and planes, the sort of thing you can’t really avoid when moving from place to place, even if you are living in various hovels in deep forests. 

Merlin finally reached the library and sat at a computer in the back corner of the room. Merlin thought it probably used to be white, but it was sort of a dirty yellow colour now and the keyboard was quite dusty. It hadn’t been used much since people often forgot it was there. It was a big, bulky sort of thing, not like the ones at the front of the library that were thin and sleek and had a big, shiny logo of a partially eaten apple. This one, he thought, could probably do with some extra attention. He blew some of the dust off and coughed as it swirled back at his face. 

He pressed a button on the keyboard and nothing happened. He pressed another one and still the screen stayed blank and the computer silent. Merlin bit down on his lower lip. He probably should have figured it would be more difficult than this. He noticed a button below the black square screen and pressed it. He almost hoorayed in triumph as it turned colour and he heard a weird sort of static sound, but managed to keep his short-lived excitement at a minimum. He internally berated himself for being so happy over such a small thing. He was the greatest sorcerer in all of history; it wasn’t like turning on a computer was his biggest achievement. Merlin stared expectantly at the screen with a smile on his face. The smile slowly melted into confusion as the screen continued to stay black. 

“Oh c’mon,” he whispered annoyed. He tapped the top of the computer with his hand, which did nothing but helped him release a bit of his annoyance. He furiously typed on the keyboard nothing in particular, but it had no effect. Merlin sighed, glaring. Then he looked at his hands and remembered, that yes, he was the greatest sorcerer in history so why was he wasting his time with this. He glanced around the room and there were no people in sight. He was in a fairly neglected part of the library, after all. The bookshelves were dusty and untouched, and few people bothered to even wander by. 

He stared at the computer again, then thought up a spell and tapped his fingers along the side of the plastic shell. He could see his own eyes flash gold in the reflective glass screen, and a gold line suddenly swished diagonally from the top corner to the opposite corner of the screen. When it disappeared the screen was still black.

“So much for that you useless heap of –“ Merlin didn’t get to finish his thought as green letters suddenly appeared on the black screen.

> _Who are you calling useless?_

Merlin’s eyes widened and he straightened his back.

“Uhhh, so you can hear me then?” Merlin whispered, as he glanced around again to make sure no one could see him. He was pretty sure he could be fired for talking to a computer; that probably qualified as some sort of mental issue.

> _No, I simply decided now was a good time to ask a random passerby if they were calling someone useless._

“Oh great. A computer that speaks fluent sarcasm. Just what I needed,” Merlin said, mostly to himself, and rolled his eyes.

> _Well, if you have such little need of me, I guess I’ll just be off again._

The screen went black again, the lit up button below the screen fading out as well.

“No, no!” Merlin scrambled and started hitting keys and pressing the button frantically. “No, I do need you! Not useless, I swear,” Merlin tried. “I’m very sorry, I do apologize,” Merlin said with his hands on either side of the plastic shell. The light on the power button turned back on. A green block blinked on the screen, as if the computer was thinking what to say. Merlin waited, not wanting to upset it further.

> _Apology accepted._

“Oh. Well… thank you,” Merlin said, pleased that the computer at least seemed reasonable. He supposed he should be glad it also seemed rather intelligent, unlike that mouse he once talked to. A computer probably wouldn’t talk to him about cheese. 

“So, um, do you have a name? Something I should call you?”

> _Well. No one’s ever asked me that.  
>I always quite liked the name Edgar._

“Edgar, then. Excellent. Hello, I’m Merlin. Um, do you mind possibly helping me now? I’d, uh, really appreciate it,” Merlin said, being cautious and not wanting to insult the thing in case it turned off again. 

> _Of course I can. Seems we both know who the useless one is here._

“Oi, I did apologize for that!” Merlin said momentarily affronted, and then laughed realizing that the computer – Edgar – may have actually inherited some of his own personality with the spell. And with that he suddenly thought maybe Edgar wasn’t so bad after all. 

Merlin eventually talked Edgar into helping him search on the “web thing” he’d heard about, while Edgar incessantly mocked him for his very little knowledge on the subject. 

> _It’s called the Internet._

Said the little box that appeared on the screen, which was now a colourful background on the “desktop” – a thing he’d recently learned was neither a desk nor a top.

“Well I don’t see what that has to do with a web,” Merlin muttered. “Alright, just bring up that… google thing.”

> _Google is one of many search engines used on Internet browsers._

“You know I haven’t a clue about anything you just said, just do it,” Merlin said exasperatedly. Edgar was being extremely difficult with just about every thing Merlin asked of him, as if he had something better to do with his time. Merlin rubbed a slow circle around his temple. Maybe he should’ve enchanted a computer with less of an attitude, or maybe just went ahead and got lessons on how to use a computer because it was starting to seem a lot less trouble than this. 

> _All right, fine. No need to sulk._

A “window” appeared with the word “Google” written in different coloured letters above a blank bar. 

> _I’m simply trying to teach you to be more competent on your own, but if you don’t want my help that’s fine._

Merlin rolled his eyes. He was not going to keep apologizing when Edgar was so easily offended.

“A bit ungrateful, you are. You wouldn’t even be able to talk if it weren’t for me,” Merlin reminded it. 

> _And you wouldn’t be able to use Google. Now what do you need to search._

“Finally,” Merlin said, remembering his reason for all of this in the first place. “Search… Arthur. Um, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin said, not knowing what sort of results he would get. He hoped Arthur’s name was the same or it might be a lot more difficult than he thought. He hadn’t actually thought this far at all, and started to feel a bit ridiculous. It could be some odd coincidence that Arthur was still Arthur and Gwen was still Gwen, and it had been a long time and maybe they had different family names now. Merlin worried his bottom lip, then his eyes were drawn back up to the screen. 

It turned out that it wasn’t too difficult to find Arthur at all. Merlin supposed he shouldn’t be shocked that the first thing that came up was Uther’s name. Uther Pendragon, he noted with relief. Billionaire owner of Camelot Corporations. Merlin rolled his eyes, and glared up through the corner of his eyes because he couldn’t figure out another way to direct sass at the universe. Really though, Camelot? He didn’t have to look much further to find Arthur’s name. Of course he was working for his father’s company. Arthur Pendragon: Senior Financial Analyst. Merlin had to admit he was surprised at that one. It was probably a decent job, but not exactly second to the throne or anything. Merlin shrugged, filing away the information in his head. He saw something interesting a few results below.

“Wait, open that one there.”

> _You really can’t even master the basics of using the mouse?_

Said Edgar’s text box, but the link opened anyway. It wasn’t that Merlin couldn’t use the mouse – which he still would rather call “the click thing” because couldn’t they have been a bit more original in the naming – but he’d sort of already gotten used to telling Edgar to do things instead. 

It was a news article about the Pendragon family. Arthur had been in a car accident when he was 7; his mom had been driving. She had died, and Arthur had lost his sight. 

“Oh,” Merlin breathed, feeling awful. He felt as though he was intruding on something that was none of his business. Yet it was here for everyone to see. He felt a deep hatred toward the universe for always taking so much from Arthur. At least he’d had seven years with his mother this time, Merlin thought bitterly. He put his hand over the mouse and clicked the backward arrow to take him the previous page then clicked on the Camelot Corporations website to find the address. He figured that was a good place to start if he wanted to… watch over Arthur, yes that was what he was going to call it. 

“Well then, Edgar. I’m off. Thanks, it’s been, um, interesting,” Merlin said, unsure how to say good-bye to a computer. He wondered if he should maybe turn it off or something, but before he’d decided, Edgar had closed the windows and returned to the black screen. 

> _Oh. Right then. Good luck finding Mr. Pendragon. Do come back soon, before I’m covered in another layer of dust._

Said the green letters, before the light on the power button faded out. Merlin was a bit surprised at the rather friendly departure by the otherwise condescending computer. He supposed Edgar didn’t actually dislike him as much as he’d thought, and maybe he was just a little bit lonely. It’s not like Merlin didn’t have experience in that department. Merlin packed up his things and left as he thought a snarky computer was definitely a step up from the talking mouse. 

~*~

He decided to walk by Camelot Corporations, just to see the building for himself. He hadn’t even actually seen Arthur again and he already felt a bit stalker-ish. He was able to catch a quick bus ride from the outskirts of the city to the large, bustling centre, where Camelot Corporations owned a fairly tall and quite shiny skyscraper. 

It was around 12:30 when Merlin got to the giant front entrance. He decided he might take a peak inside to see how tight security was and maybe find out what floor Arthur worked on. Merlin walked in the front entrance of the Camelot tower and was mildly impressed. It was sleek and professional and very Uther. Merlin barely had a few moments to glance around the room before a ding caught his attention and right across the large lobby, Arthur was exiting the elevator. 

Merlin may have panicked slightly and tried hiding behind a fake plant near the entrance until he remembered: oh yeah, blind. He felt slightly embarrassed but still kept his back to Arthur, and glanced over his shoulder to look. Merlin was surprised once again when he recognized the face of the man guiding Arthur who was laughing heartily while Arthur wore a grin. Merlin softened; he always liked Leon even though he was never as close with him as Gwaine or Lance. Merlin got excited at the prospect of seeing more of his old friends, though none of them seemed to recognize him. 

He waited a moment in the lobby, debating between snooping around the building more or following Arthur. It didn't take long to make up his mind, as he reminded himself that the point was to make sure Arthur wasn’t in any sort of trouble. Snooping around Camelot Tower could wait. 

Merlin felt an odd thrill of excitement, trying to be stealthy and inconspicuous. He felt like he’d been dropped into one of those old black and white detective movies that he’d acquired a taste (okay, an obsession) for in the fifties. He tried not to get too carried away though, refusing to let himself get a fedora and pretend to read a newspaper while leaning against various walls. It turns out that following Leon and Arthur unnoticed didn't need much cunning anyway. They ended up at a small sandwich shop where they spent their time eating and talking and Merlin sat in the cafe across the street. He only watched and didn’t try to eavesdrop as he had to draw the line somewhere. 

Merlin kept an eye on Arthur for a few days, and got a bit more discreet and learned how to truly 'act natural'. He didn't always catch Arthur on his lunch break. His work schedule wasn't exactly flexible enough to fit in "stalk Arthur" breaks. Sometimes he caught Arthur leaving work, or sometimes on his way in the morning. One day he followed Arthur and Leon going to a pub. Merlin grumbled about wasting his evenings watching other people rather than having his own, when he remembered he wasn't really sure what he'd do for fun anyway. 

Merlin only got over the threshold when he stopped to take in the scene and he turned around and left again. He stood outside the pub against the wall and huffed a breath, the cool night turning it into white smoke. Of course he'd been wondering, but he hadn't so far seen any more evidence of his old Camelot friends. Yet, here they all were, sat squeezed into a large booth in an old looking pub. Merlin took a few steps away and, no, Merlin actually glared at the sign. He barely refrained from willing it to burst into flames, solely because when it actually did, that would be rather hard to explain. Avalon. And inside was Arthur and Gwen and Leon and Gwaine and Percival and... Merlin's stomach clenched. Morgana. 

She had been laughing when Merlin entered and he he'd almost been sick with the turmoil of emotions that bombarded him. The last time he'd seen Morgana was when she'd been trying to kill both him and Arthur, it was when he murdered her. Yet he still remembered glimpses of the Morgana he'd first met in Camelot. The sweet Morgana who he lied to about his magic, which made him wonder constantly if she would have turned out differently had he gone about her magical abilities better. 

Merlin had to bite down the sick feeling rising in his stomach. He was far past the point of questioning any decisions made all that time ago, but it was a very different experience to see her again, laughing and happy and with Arthur, and Merlin only wondered if history would repeat itself. What if Arthur and Merlin were brought together again so Merlin could save him this time? Maybe Morgana would become a threat again somehow. Merlin wasn't sure if his thoughts were even coherent, but he couldn't go back into that pub that night. 

He headed back to his apartment, taking quieter back streets and trying to clear his mind. By the time he got back to his room and collapsed on his bed, he decided he shouldn't jump to any conclusions yet, and that the solution was more surveillance. 

Two days later, Merlin was working a slow Sunday afternoon shift in the library. He was reading through some Norse mythology texts when the phone rang. 

“Taverham Library, how can I help you?”

The lady on the other end started to rattle on about a book she was looking for. Merlin was used to this on Sunday afternoons. The old ladies who recounted plotlines from books they wanted to share with their friends. To any other person, “the one about the man with that dog and he leaves to do that thing” might not be very helpful. Having both magic and a lot of time to read in the past made it easier for Merlin to figure out which book they’re searching after. While he was turned around, still listening to the elder woman’s chatter, he heard the quiet woosh of the front doors opening and closing.

“Ah, yes ma’am, I found it,” Merlin said without having moved from his place behind the desk. “I’ll put it aside for your friend Deloris, alright? Yep, just tell her to go right to the front counter. Yep, you’re welcome. You too,” Merlin said as he hung up the phone. He jotted down a reminder on a little piece of paper to go find the book and put it aside; he knew exactly where it would be.

“Merlin?” A quiet voice came from the other side of the desk and Merlin spun around. Of course, he’d recognized the voice instantly, even if Arthur had said his name meekly as though he wasn’t 100% sure of his assumption. Merlin said nothing, gaping like a fish out of water and looking around in a mild panic. Why was Arthur here, at his work, talking to him? Merlin was not prepared for this. Surely Arthur would have questions. How would Merlin even begin to explain or come up with an excuse?

“I’m sorry. Are you not Merlin? Your voice, it’s just – well it’s very distinctive,” Arthur was saying. Even though Merlin hadn’t said a word, Arthur seemed to be growing more confident. 

“It is you, isn’t it? Please, just say something.” He sounded exasperated and Merlin felt a bit like a jerk, and also an idiot.

“Right. Sorry,” Merlin said lamely. “Um, how are you?” Merlin wasn’t sure what he was expecting. ‘Oh not much. That was weird about that thing that happened the other day right? Yeah, let’s not mention that again, want to grab a drink?’ Merlin bit his lip and his hands sat in fists on top of the desk, nervously.

What Merlin definitely wasn’t expecting was for Arthur to laugh. It was a surprised laugh and Merlin’s heart ached because he hadn’t heard anything like it in so long. He’d missed Arthur’s laugh so much, and hearing it again filled him with melancholy. Here was his best friend right in front of him, yet they were complete strangers. 

“I’m quite well, Merlin. Thank you,” said Arthur, sounding amused still. Merlin almost thought he could actually get away with having a light-hearted conversation until Arthur’s smile straightened out. “Look, do you, um, know what happened? In the café the other day?” Arthur’s voice was lower now, clearly not wanting to be overheard. 

“Uhhhhhh,” Merlin said and he couldn’t think of anything else to say; his mind was racing to come up with a logical explanation. On the other hand, he’d kept his magic a secret from Arthur for so long, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get it all in the open right away. Though, Merlin really doubted Arthur would ever want to talk to him again, as he’d probably think Merlin was 100% clinically insane. Then as if an answer to his unspoken prayers, Gwen came up to Arthur’s side. 

“Oh, hello. It’s Merlin, right?” she said at Merlin with a kind smile, but she almost seemed a bit suspicious of him. 

“Yeah. Hello, Gwen,” Merlin replied, smiling and trying not to notice Arthur was still facing him with his hands planted flat on the desk. Gwen seemed to notice this and raised an eyebrow. 

“Arthur, everything all right?” she said, placing a hand on Arthur’s arm. Merlin’s smile faltered as he leaned back away from the desk, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Just fine, Guinevere. Actually, I was just inviting Merlin here out to the pub with us tonight,” Arthur said cheerily. Merlin’s eyes shot back up to look at Arthur.

“Uh, you were?” Merlin said, then stared at Gwen because she’d said the exact same thing almost in tandem. 

“Of course! He’s quite the interesting character, Gwen,” Arthur was announcing, as if they’d actually been talking about themselves this whole time and it hadn’t been just Merlin making an idiot of himself. Merlin’s mouth was gaped open and staring at Arthur, not at all knowing what to say.

“Uh, right,” said Gwen. “Well, Merlin, you are of course welcome to join us. We’ll be meeting at Avalon at 8 o’clock. Are you ready to go Arthur? I just need to check out this book,” she finished, looking at Merlin. Merlin stared dumbly, not knowing what Arthur could possibly be playing at. 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Arthur spoke up, and Merlin finally closed his mouth. “Checking out the book for my friend, Gwen?”

“Right. Of course, sorry. Sundays, you know? Make my brain a bit mush,” Merlin rambled, taking the book from Gwen and scanning it. She handed him her library card and he entered what he needed to on the keyboard as his mouth kept forming words he had no control over. In the end, he wasn’t really sure what he’d talked about, but Arthur had sort of burst out with a small laugh in the middle of it and Merlin’s cheeks had gone red. Gwen had only given a confused look between the two of them before placing a hand on Arthur’s arm and waving good-bye to Merlin with the other. 

Once he could no longer see Arthur’s blonde hair, he let out an audible sigh. He wasn’t really sure what had just happened or why Arthur had invited him out to meet his friends when they barely knew each other. Merlin’s stomach flipped a little in a mix of both excitement and fear. It felt a bit like walking into a trap, but he couldn’t very well close the door on the opportunity that would let him into Arthur’s life rather than watching it from afar. Merlin bit his lip and began counting the hours until his shift was over. 

On his break, he bought a sandwich from the shop across the street and sat with Edgar. There was a strict ‘no eating’ rule around the computers, but it wasn’t like anyone would see him in the dark back corner anyway. And Edgar certainly didn’t care about the food, as long as it meant he had someone to bicker with. Merlin briefly concluded he could blame his poor social skills on the fact that the extent of his interactions has been with animals and inanimate objects for far too long.

“I’m so screwed,” he thought aloud. He was going to have to meet all of his old friends for the first time again, and what if they all hated him?

> _Care for a piece of advice?_

Wrote Edgar. 

“Oh yes, advice from a computer about my social life. Exactly what I need,” Merlin responded, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

> _If they somehow found a way to like you all that time ago, they can probably learn to deal with you again._

“Hey,” Merlin said, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or offended just yet. “Uh, thanks. I guess,” clearly deciding he’d be better off taking it as a compliment.

Later that night, Merlin was standing in the bathroom, running fingers and combs and brushes through his hair trying to get it to do anything but whatever it was currently doing. It didn’t help though, as his hair continued to just do that floppy thing that made the dark fringe fall a bit into his eyes while the rest sort of haphazardly stuck up in random places. He huffed as he resigned to a lifetime of unfixable hair. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother, but he was extra nervous tonight. He pulled at the hem of his plaid shirt again, straightening it for the last time before he grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet, and headed for Avalon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur worries Merlin won't show up to the pub. Merlin worries his old friends won't like him again. They're both wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay again! Also this chapter is a bit shorter but I have already started the next chapter and will hopefully update again soon!

Arthur's leg bounced up and down under the bar table. Every time he heard the door open, he went completely still until he felt Gwen's hand on his arm and she whispered 'it’s not him'. There was also the occasional snipe from Morgana, because apparently the 'don't tell Morgana about Merlin' wasn't actually implied to Gwen like Arthur thought it was. He didn't have time to come up with a proper cover story so Gwen ended up telling her that Arthur had developed an obsession with a random guy he'd met in a café. Morgana hadn't stopped teasing him since Gwen had filled her in after the accidental meeting in the library.

Arthur hadn’t even wanted to go to the library, but Gwen had insisted. Needless to say, he was surprised when he heard the familiar voice rambling on the telephone to someone looking for a book. It was an odd coincidence, but Arthur hadn’t stopped thinking about their meeting in the café and he wasn’t about to let Merlin get away again. It frightened Arthur quite a bit, and he had begun to think he’d imagined it. That is, until Merlin’s startled silence pretty much confirmed the fact that Arthur wasn’t just going crazy. 

Arthur was now starting to worry that Merlin was going to blow him off and Arthur wondered if he could really blame him. After all, it wasn’t as if they actually knew anything about each other. But something in Arthur’s gut and in his chest desperately needed to understand what had happened that day, and who Merlin was. It was like having a word on the tip of your tongue, but not for the life of you being able to spit it out. His leg continued to bounce under the table, tapping out a rhythm in an attempt to dissipate his nerves. As usual, he went stock still when he heard the door open and waited for Gwen to tap his arm. But this time, the touch never came. 

“Gwen?” he asked, hoping his whisper was only audible to her.

“Merlin, over here!” she exclaimed and Arthur’s heart started beating double time. He’d actually shown up. Arthur found himself wondering what Merlin looked like and what he was wearing, and frowned because he would never get a chance to see for himself. Of course he’d force Gwen to describe him to the best of her ability, but it wouldn’t be the same. He coughed as he forced the thought out of his head, and heard steps approaching the table. 

“Uh, hi. Sorry I’m late,” Merlin said nervously. For some reason it made Arthur smile. 

“Everyone, this is Merlin. Merlin this is… almost everyone. You know Gwen of course, and I believe the order from there is Leon, Morgana, and Gwaine,” Arthur explained.

“Here, have a seat mate,” Gwaine said. Arthur tried not to get annoyed at the flirtatious undertone there, because really, Gwaine gave that tone to just about everyone, and it wasn’t Arthur’s place to be getting jealous. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Merlin replied and Arthur heard a ruffling of clothes and people sliding down the semi-circular bench seat.

“You look… oddly familiar,” Morgana’s voice started. “Have we met before?”

Merlin laughed nervously and Arthur was intrigued as to where Morgana might know him from. “No, can’t say that we have. Surely I would remember you,” Merlin said. Arthur sensed he was trying a bit too hard to not be awkward that he was being entirely counter-productive.

“You better not be flirting with my fiancée, mate,” came Leon’s voice. Everyone was silent and Arthur wished he could see the look of panic on Merlin’s face, and the following confusion when everyone broke out into laughter a moment later. 

“Don’t worry about Leon, he just likes saying fiancée more than any man should,” Arthur explained. “God knows why he’s that excited to marry my sister, though.”

“Oi!” Morgana exclaimed and Arthur was prepared for the slap to his arm that came after that. 

“Wow, you two? Getting married? That’s… I mean, congratulations,” Merlin said timidly. Though meeting Morgana for the first time would be frightening for any normal human being. 

“Thank you, Merlin. Though, we’re waiting a little while before even thinking about planning, unlike Gwen here,” Morgana was saying. “How’s everything coming by the way?” 

“Hey, we were just… excited, okay?” Gwen said defensively, but took the bait as she began listing off things that were done and still left to do. It made Merlin’s head spin thinking about Gwen and Arthur getting married and living a happy life together and Merlin certainly didn’t want to get in the way of that… again. He thought that maybe he should just stay out of Arthur’s life all together, but he knew he was a bit too selfish for that. He would take whatever Arthur gave him. But that didn’t mean he would have to listen to Gwen talk about their wedding plans.

“Sorry, I’m just going to head to the loo,” Merlin said quietly, as not to interrupt Gwen, and stood up. 

“Me too, actually. Merlin, do you mind if you make sure I don’t knock over any tables on the way?” Arthur said, and Merlin couldn’t really think of an excuse not to. 

“Sure, of course,” he replied. Merlin wasn’t sure what to do, and didn’t want to cause another incident like the one in the café. Arthur stood up and told Merlin to lead the way, quickly explaining he would just have a hand on Merlin’s shoulder for guidance. 

Arthur’s hand rested on Merlin’s shoulder and it made the short walk to the bathroom seem much longer. Merlin didn’t actually have to go to the bathroom, so he thought it might be awkward once they actually got in there. Except that Arthur apparently hadn’t had to go either. Once they’d got inside the doors, Arthur dropped his hand and said, “Not a big fan of the wedding talk, are you?”

Merlin stared blankly at Arthur and wondered how Arthur could have been able to tell. “That obvious, was I?”

“I know an emergency escape when I hear one,” Arthur laughed. “To be honest, I’m getting a bit tired of it myself as well. I mean I’m happy for Gwen, but there’s only so much wedding talk I can handle until I go insane.”

Merlin felt a bit confused and wondered why Arthur was getting married at all since he didn’t seem to excited about it. “Happy for Gwen? Shouldn’t you be happy too? I mean, marriage is a big thing. You probably shouldn’t just leap into something if it’s not what you want,” Merlin heard himself saying and realized he might be sounding just a bit too bitter if he was pretending to have just met Arthur twice. 

“What,” Arthur started, and Merlin worried he was about to be yelled at for having no place in Arthur’s business. “Are you talking about?” Arthur began to laugh and Merlin wasn’t sure what was going on anymore. “Do you think Gwen and I are getting married? Oh god, no,” Arthur finally explained.

“I… what? Oh,” Merlin stammered, because he wasn’t really sure what else to say. He went back over the previous encounters in his mind, and he guessed that he’d just assumed that Arthur and Gwen were together. “I guess I just though… I mean since you were together both those times and… wow, really? That’s great! I mean, well, no it’s not. Unless you think it is too, but… I’m going to stop talking now,” Merlin finished by slapping a hand over his own mouth. 

“You are… really odd, Merlin,” Arthur replied, seriously. “Gwen and I did date for about a week before we realized that we worked well together, but there was no romantic connection there. We were better off as friends. She’s actually getting married to my best friend, Lance.”

Merlin almost choked. Lancelot had also been his best friend a long time ago. Lancelot had known about Merlin’s magic and never told a soul, and he’d sacrificed himself to save both Merlin and Arthur. Merlin tried to fight back the emotion rising in him. He wanted to hug Arthur and celebrate the fact that all of their friends were alive, and they were all here and well and together. But he was quickly reminded of the fact that none of them remembered him, and none of them would even notice or care if they ever saw him again.

“Oh, that’s lovely. I’m sure they are perfect for each other,” was all Merlin ended up saying. 

“They really are. He’s out of town for business right now, but he’ll be back this week,” Arthur said and then paused momentarily, a cheeky grin creeping onto his lips. “Were you jealous, Merlin? I mean you seemed awfully relieved when I wasn’t the one getting married. I mean, I have been told I have dreadfully good looks, but,” Arthur started but Merlin cut him off.

“Oh, shut up, you prat,” he said as he laughed. Merlin didn’t think it would be so nice to see the jokingly arrogant side of Arthur he’d known for so long. 

“Prat? I don’t get called that very often. I’m afraid you and Morgana might get along terribly well,” Arthur said thoughtfully.

“Well I suppose we should get back to the table now,” Merlin said and headed for the door, walking by Arthur.

“Merlin, wait –“ Arthur had started saying as he reached out his hand to grab Merlin’s wrist. Arthur didn’t know why he did it, but he’d been more prepared this time for the sensation that lit up his world with colours and images. He didn’t let go right away this time, his fingers stayed wrapped around Merlin’s wrist. It felt like fireworks going off in his fingertips and he gasped when he let go. “What… what was that?”

“Arthur, are you okay? I don’t know. I don’t know what happens,” Merlin said worriedly. 

“I… I see things. I see colours and light and it’s beautiful,” Arthur replied. And then his face changed as though he was remembering something else. 

“What else did you see?” Merlin asked seriously.

“Nothing,” Arthur replied too quickly. “We should get back,” he said as he reached to turn Merlin around and push him out the door, only keeping a hand lightly on his shoulder for guidance. 

The rest of the night passed without incident. Arthur and Merlin were both fairly quiet after returning to the table, but the drinks and the laughter were contagious. Merlin was happy to find out that he still got along quite well with everybody. Gwen warmed up to him when she got to actually talking to him rather than short chats after awkward run-ins with Arthur. Merlin’s mind flashed back to the two of them talking about whom she’d rather end up with: Arthur or Lance. He’d always looked back on that bitterly, but now fondness flooded him. 

Leon and Morgana were the first to leave, and then Gwaine, throwing a wink to Merlin. Merlin waved as Gwaine exited through the door, then he realized he was left with Arthur and Gwen once again.

“I should probably be off. Errands to run tomorrow and all that,” Merlin said to break the silence that had settled at the table. 

“Oh Merlin, don’t! I’m all alone until Lance gets back, and there’s only so much Arthur a person can take,” Gwen protested jokingly, giving Arthur’s arm a squeeze.

Merlin smiled at Gwen then looked at Arthur. Despite Merlin getting along perfectly with everyone, he and Arthur hadn’t actually talked much the rest of the night. He looked deep in thought and not about to add to the protestation, so Merlin resigned to head home for the night.

“Sorry, Gwen. Maybe we can grab a coffee and you can tell me all about those wedding plans, since I’m probably the only one in town left who doesn’t know the details,” Merlin grinned. That seemed to please Gwen. He took the pen that was still sitting on the signed receipt where Gwaine had left it and wrote down his cell phone number on a torn piece of napkin. “Here, take this. I don’t really work all that much, so I’m sure I can spare some time.” Merlin paused a moment, looking down at his mostly empty glass then up at Arthur. “You can use it too, Arthur. You know, if you want to reach me or something,” Merlin said, with fake nonchalance. He wondered what went so wrong tonight. What had Arthur seen?

“Cheers,” Arthur replied, and Gwen gave Merlin an apologetic look.

“I’ll see you, Merlin,” Gwen said as Merlin got up and left.

As the door swung shut behind Merlin, Gwen swatted Arthur’s arm. “What was that all about, you idiot?”

“Ow! Gwen, what?!” Arthur replied, as if he was only now snapping out of some daydream. 

“You basically ignored Merlin all night and he just tried to give you his number and all you said was cheers,” Gwen scolded. Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who wanted him around so badly you were a ball of nervous energy, and now all of us love him so you’re going to have to share,” Gwen joked, but Arthur didn’t laugh. What he’d seen earlier was still playing through his mind, confusing him too much to even feel bad.

“Sorry, Gwen. I think I just need to sleep. For a really, really long time,” Arthur replied and took out his wallet to set down a few bills on the table that would cover his and Gwen’s drinks. “Drinks on me, for being a jerk,” Arthur announced.

“It’s not me you owe drinks to,” Gwen mumbled and Arthur pretended not to hear as they made their way out to call a cab. 

That night Arthur dreamed of green fields and cobblestone, red capes and shiny armour, and golden eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur deals with what he saw and there are definitely NO dates happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on this being the last chapter, but that is how it turned out! An epilogue will also be coming soon, worry not! (And I'm terribly sorry for making you wait so long, I hope you like it <3)

Sunday night drinks were a declared tradition between Arthur and his friends. It started years ago when they were all in school together; they used to compete against each other to see who could make it to class with the worst hangover. Gwaine took bets on who wouldn’t make it out of their room. Morgana, of course, was always the most composed, and it didn’t matter how much Arthur would make her drink, come Monday morning she would be as put together as ever. Or so he was told. Really, everyone could have been fucking with him for all he knew.

Arthur was usually quite efficient with his work, but this Monday he was distracted. At 26, he’d only spent 7 years being able to see and had since then seen nothing but blackness, until that first time he'd shaken Merlin's hand that is. Arthur was having a hard time comprehending what everything meant and who or what Merlin was. Arthur rubbed at his eyes, remembering the first time when there had been a surge of such colours and images. He been in shock and unable to make anything out. But the next time, he was ready for it. When he'd grabbed Merlin's wrist he tried to hold on to what he saw, but it only confused him more.

Arthur leaned his head back against his chair and he swiveled around. He’d seen fields of lush green, stone castles, and red capes with gold emblems. He smiled as he tried to hang out to the images in his mind. But then the other images came in too; the intermittent flashes of people. He saw himself in beds and closets and empty hallways, alone save for the man he shared those spaces with: a man he didn’t even know, with a jet black mop of hair and goofy ears and a wide grin, with slender fingers and full lips that roamed all over Arthur. Arthur snapped himself up straight, shaking his head and coughing awkwardly as if someone might know what he’d been thinking about. Arthur didn't know what to make of any of it and didn't know what Merlin had to do with all of it. 

His mind kept travelling back though. Every hour or so, Arthur would sit back and try and picture the vivid colours he had seen, colours he’d missed so much, until it was interrupted with the memories of him and the other man. Then he would try to get back to work. 

Around 2 in the afternoon, Arthur's computer told him he had a new email from Morgana. He hit the enter key to get the computer to read the email.

"Hello, dear brother," said the automated voice. "I was hoping you were free to have dinner at my place tonight." Arthur groaned and kneaded his forehead. "Before you think of making an excuse, I already cleared it with your secretary. See you at 6:30. Kisses, Morgana."

Arthur sighed and called out for his secretary, Elena, to get Leon on the phone.

"Hello?" Leon answered.

"What did you say to Morgana to get her pissed at me?" Arthur asked petulantly.

Leon just laughed. "Nothing, mate. Why do you ask?"

"She wants me over for dinner tonight," Arthur said.

"Ooh, two days in a row? You must have done something all by yourself. I said nothing," Leon mused.

"Alright, wish me luck." Arthur hung up.

It wasn't that he and Morgana didn't get along. They loved each other as much as siblings could. They were half-siblings, but Arthur couldn't remember a time before Morgana. Arthur's dad had married her mom when he and Morgana were both 2. Since then, they've always been in each other's classes, shared bathrooms, and more, and after high school they vowed to give each other more space. Morgana only ever wanted to see Arthur two days in a row if she had a bone to pick with him. Arthur wondered what he could have possibly done, but he knew sometimes it was better to not even try and understand her.

Arthur typed out a reply, "Fine. See you then," and went back to work.

One of his father's company cars drove him to Morgana's house after he finished work.

Morgana met him out front to help him up to her flat, even though he's told her for years she didn't need to.

“You’re late,” Morgana said as she linked her arm around Arthur’s. “Did you come straight from the office? You’re going to work yourself to the bone.” Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes and calling her mum. 

“Sorry, there was just a project I had to finish up,” Arthur replied. 

“There always is,” Morgana muttered under her breath and Arthur pretended not to hear. 

Spaghetti was for dinner, and Arthur could tell as soon as the door to Morgana’s flat had opened. The sauce she used was her mother’s old recipe and had a very distinct, delicious scent. If she was making one of his favourite meals, maybe she wasn’t angry with him… Maybe it was bad news. 

Arthur stopped the nerves in their tracks. He wouldn’t start worrying until he actually talked to Morgana. 

When they were finally seated at the table and Morgana had poured wine into their glasses, she spoke. 

“So, Arthur, how was your day?” she asked kindly. It made Arthur suspicious. 

“Good. Productive. Got lots done,” Arthur said too quickly. He knew she was probably giving him a look; she always knew when he was lying. 

“Right… Yeah, me too,” said Morgana distractedly. Silence fell over the table; the only sound was the scratch of silverware against the plates and chewing. Morgana took an audible sip of wine. 

“So, Merlin was nice,” she said, and Arthur stopped chewing. 

“Uh, yep. Everyone seemed to like him well enough,” Arthur replied after gulping down his mouthful of food.

“Do you? Like him, I mean,” Morgana said mischievously. 

Arthur groaned. “Did you really invite me over to talk about Merlin?” Arthur asked, saying Merlin’s name like it was something foreign.

“No. Well, sort of. I mean… this is going to sound odd, Arthur. But when he showed up last night, I had a sort of weird déjà vu feeling but I couldn’t really figure out why. And then I dreamed about him, and I could just tell it wasn’t the first time,” Morgana explained. Her voice had changed from quietly unsure to louder and more wild, and Arthur was only getting more confused.

“I… I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here, Morgana,” Arthur said, trying to stay calm. 

“Arthur, I dreamed about him before I even met him. I know you don’t like to talk about my weird dreams, but I think this is important,” Morgana said desperately. Years ago, some time after his car accident, she had told him through tears that she had dreamed about it before it happened. He’d been angry and confused and had snapped at her and she never talked about her dreams again. Arthur hardly remembered it, but apparently Morgana had. 

“Arthur, sometimes I dream about things. Things that happen after I dream about them,” Morgana said more calmly. 

“So, are you trying to tell me you had a vision about Merlin?” Arthur asked, skipping over the visions in general part to specifically the Merlin part. Maybe what they’d each been seeing was linked. 

“Well, actually, that’s the weird part,” she said, knowing Arthur would find that hard to believe. 

He sighed. “Alright,” then motioned for her to continue. 

“Usually I see things that haven’t happened yet. But with Merlin, it’s like I’m seeing things from the past. Like, really far in the past,” Morgana paused as if to gauge a reaction from Arthur. He only furrowed his brow in confusion and contemplation.

She continued. “He looked the same though, mostly. It’s weird. All messy black hair and lankiness,” she laughed lightly, but Arthur became completely still. “Those ridiculous ears and intense blue eyes,” she mused fondly. Arthur would wonder how she could be so fond after only meeting the man once, but he was busy trying (and failing again) not to let his shock show on his face. This was sounding a lot like the bloke he thought he didn’t know in those visions. Could it really have been Merlin? Arthur almost felt stupid for not having thought of it as an option before. His contact with Merlin had caused the images; it would make sense Merlin was the man he’d seen. 

“Arthur? Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet,” she spoke with concern. 

“Hmm? Yes, sorry. I just, uh, didn’t know that’s what Merlin looked like,” Arthur said quickly.

“Oh, I was sure you would’ve made Gwen tell you,” she said teasingly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed again. He didn’t even care Morgana was trying to take a jab at him. “I did. She clearly didn’t do a very good job,” he said irritably. ‘Tallish, dark haired, and skinny’ really hadn’t done him justice. More like cheekbones and pink lips and – Arthur cut himself off. He could so not be thinking about this right now. Everything had just become that much more confusing, and his eyes narrowed. Just what the hell was Merlin and what was he doing to them?

“Sorry, Morgana, I should probably go now. Work to do and such,” Arthur lied as he stood up.

“What? Oh… Of course. Walk you down?” she asked. He was sure she sensed his lie this time but was grateful she didn’t call him on it. 

“No. Really, I’m fine. Goodnight,” he said as he picked up his walking stick and briskly headed out of her apartment. Her building was extremely easy to navigate from memory as he’d made the trip too many times to count by now. He called a cab on the ride down the elevator and his stomach twisted as he waited on the curb. He tapped his phone in his hand until he sighed heavily and called Gwen. 

“Gwen, hi. So, um, I was thinking,” Arthur said, trying to be nonchalant. “I should probably call Merlin and apologize for last night.”  
“Oh,” she said sounding surprised. “I mean, yes. Yes you should. You were a right prat,” she added sternly.

“I know, I know. So um, maybe you could pass on the number he gave you?” Arthur asked, hoping she wouldn’t start lecturing him or something. Instead she agreed and slowly read the numbers out as Arthur repeated them. He was good with numbers; at least good enough to memorize them until he hung up and could type them in his phone. 

“Thanks, Gwen,” he said quickly and hung up before she could try and berate him anymore. He dialed the number as the cab pulled up, and the driver helped Arthur in. 

He gave the driver his address then sat with his thumb hovering nervously over the call button. What would he even say? He couldn’t just accuse Merlin of… placing visions in his and Morgana’s heads. He lost some of the anger that had built up inside him, realizing how ridiculous all that sounded. He just wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t quite know how to find out. There really only was the one way, though. He hit the button and gulped nervously. 

After three rings, Arthur found himself getting anxious, though he wasn’t sure why. The phone stopped ringing and he heard a muffled “Ow! Stupid 21st century tech – huh?” and then a louder “Hello?” as if he’d just realized he’d answered the phone. 

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. How could Merlin of all people be up to anything nefarious? Arthur felt more relaxed, but something (fondness? No, certainly not) made his chest tighten. 

“Having some technical difficulties?” Arthur asked lightly, suppressing a smile by biting his cheek.

“…Arthur?” Merlin asked, and there was something in the tone of his voice that made Arthur feel guilty. “No! I was just… um, yeah a bit. New phone is all,” he answered and huffed a short laugh, embarrassed. There was a short silence. Arthur suddenly forgot why he’d called in the first place, why he’d ever want to call other than to listen to Merlin ramble on pointlessly. Arthur coughed and began saying, “I’m sorry for –“ just as Merlin was saying, “I wasn’t expecting –“ and they both laughed awkwardly.

“Look,” Arthur said, determined now. “I’m sorry for how I acted toward the end of last night.”

“No. Arthur, it’s okay,” Merlin calmly replied.

“It’s not. Really, I was a bit of a…”

“Prat,” Merlin filled in. Too quickly, if you asked Arthur.

“Right,” Arthur bitterly agreed. Merlin and Gwen definitely got on too well. 

“Always were a bit,” Merlin mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Huh? Nothing, nothing. You were saying? I think it was along the lines of buying me a few pints to make up for being such a –“

“Prat. Yes, I get it.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “How about I buy you a cuppa first though. Tomorrow at 7? Kilgarrah Café.”

Merlin’s abrupt laugh surprised Arthur. “Sorry, where?” Merlin asked.

“The café we met in,” Arthur said slowly. 

“Oh. Good, yes. That’s good. See you then,” Merlin’s voice became soft and polite again. 

After Arthur hung up, he was surprised that his mouth was hurting. He hadn’t realized he’d been grinning almost the whole time.

~*~

Merlin was nervous. “Not a date, not a date,” he kept repeating to himself. 

“Not a date,” he said as he changed his shirt to one of the band shirts he’d recently bought. Something called Death Cab For Cutie. He hadn’t heard their music, but he’d liked their graphics so he bought a few different ones. 

“So not a date,” he said as he once again failed to do anything decent with his hair. It flopped onto his forehead, looking the same mess as usual. 

Merlin really did know it wasn’t a date. No sane person would ask someone out on a date whose contact _burnt_ you. When Arthur called, he’d been surprised to say the least. His cell phone had been buried in the couch where he’d been taking a nap. He’d had to dig for it and hit his knee on the coffee table as he stood up. 

When it hadn’t been Gwen’s voice but Arthur’s, Merlin almost couldn’t breathe. Surely Arthur just wanted answers -- answers that Merlin couldn’t provide. He didn’t even know what happened to Arthur when he’d grabbed Merlin’s wrist on Sunday. It was enough to make Arthur not want to talk to him the rest of the night though. Merlin’s chest had ached so severely, he could almost feel it now just thinking about it. Merlin had no idea what he’d say to Arthur if he asked about what happened.

He looked down at his hands playing with the hem of his shirt. Running a hand through his hair one more time, he sighed. “Not a date,” he muttered as he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the apartment. 

When he got to the café (and if he’d been drinking something when Arthur said ‘Kilgarrah’ it would have come out his nose), he took a deep breath outside the front door before going in. There were a few people, but not many. Arthur was sitting at a small table with his hand around a large mug and another mug sat across the table from him. Merlin smiled and walked over.

“That for me? Oh, you’re too kind,” he said as he put his jacket on the back of the seat and sat down. 

Arthur smiled. “Well, from what I’m told by practically all my traitorous friends who secretly think I’m a prat, I owe you a lot more than that.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Merlin started innocently. “I really don’t think it’s secretly.”

Arthur’s mouth went wide as he laughed, surprised. “Oi! Cheeky.”

Merlin grinned shyly and looked down into his mug. It looked like some kind of latte; there was a thick layer of foam on top.

“So… how was work?” Merlin asked in hope of avoiding the inevitable for a little while longer. 

“Good. Busy as usual, but good. Finish one big project and the next one comes flying in,” Arthur said. 

“Is it difficult? I mean you work on computers all day right? Is it hard when you can’t see? I’m sorry, is that rude? I shouldn’t have asked!” Merlin covered his mouth and winced at himself. Arthur just laughed.

“It’s fine, Merlin. Well it’s not easy, but no, it’s not really difficult. I’ve had quite a long time to adjust. It’s just how it is for me. I always wanted to do more in the company though, but I don’t think my father trusts me with any bigger responsibilities. I honestly think that’s why he gives me so many projects. To keep me too busy from even trying to want more,” Arthur said thoughtfully. 

Merlin’s heart fell a bit. He always believed Arthur could do whatever he set his mind to. It seemed Uther Pendragon was a tough father to please in this life too.

“I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you with talk of business,” Arthur said as he rubbed his neck. 

“No, no. That’s fine. I’m the one who asked.” Merlin watched Arthur take a sip of his drink, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed it, and tongue licking up the foam that had gathered on his upper lip. Merlin’s mouth went dry and he quickly took a sip of his own as well. It was sweet with caramel and the warmth spread through him and he hummed. 

“Good isn’t it?” Arthur asked, pleased with himself. 

“Very,” Merlin agreed and took another sip, slower this time. 

“So how do you like working at the library, then?”

“Oh, good. Yeah, I like books…” Merlin felt a bit of an idiot. “And history and stuff. That’s what I majored in at school,” he lied, nodding. He hated lying to Arthur. After all the lies he’d told in their past, he was really hoping to keep it to a minimum this time around. He really did like books and history though. “There’s just so much information floating around in books. So many stories, more than you could ever possibly read even if you lived for centuries,” he explained. Merlin had sort of zoned out and realized he’d magicked the foam in his cup into the shape of a dragon. He quickly waved a hand over it to set it back to normal. When he looked up it almost seemed like Arthur was looking at him, head cocked to the side a bit. He had his sunglasses on, but Merlin wished he didn’t. He missed Arthur’s bright, blue eyes, and wondered if they’d look the same. 

“There’s something about you Mer–“

“Sorry, boys. We’re about to close up.” Arthur was interrupted by an older lady with an apron. “You can stay for a bit, just thought I’d let you know,” she smiled brightly and walked away.

“Didn’t realize they closed so early,” Arthur said sheepishly. 

“That’s alright,” Merlin said dimly. He’d hoped to spend more time with Arthur. Just bring in his proximity made his magic thrum in his veins and he felt more alive. He wanted more than anything to just reach for Arthur’s hand, but he knew he couldn’t. 

A phone rang and it made Merlin jumped. It wasn’t his though, the ringtone was not as obnoxious (he couldn’t figure out how to change his). Arthur sighed.

“Sorry, I should get this.”

“Of course, go ahead.”

“Hello, Morgana,” Arthur answered. “What? Oh… uh, okay well… Yes, but… Right. Fine. No, it’s fine. I’m with Merlin. What? Why?” He sighed dramatically. “Yes, okay. See you soon,” and he hung up.   
“I’ve got to go to Morgana’s and pick up her cat. Apparently a business trip has popped up out of nowhere and it’s too short notice to ask anyone else. Plus I already have its bowl and some food from last time,” Arthur explained.

“Oh. Right, well thanks for the coffee. It was delicious,” Merlin tried to sound upbeat.

“Hold on there, Merlin. You don’t get out of it that easy. She wants you to come too.” One side of Arthur’s lips curved up in a half smile. Merlin felt all too pleased. 

They went outside to get a cab and Merlin pulled his jacket sleeve around his hand when he helped Arthur in to make sure there would be no contact. As Merlin got into the seat after him, he saw the small sign above the door of the hole-in-the-wall café that read ‘Kilgarrah Café.’

“You know,” Merlin said as he settled in to his seat. “I read about a Kilgarrah once. A dragon who was taken prisoner and kept in a cave as an example. Quite sad really,” Merlin said thoughtfully. 

“Yes. That’s odd, you know. I think the place is actually named after a man. He died in prison actually and his family always thought he was innocent, but it was never proven. I think that’s his great granddaughter we saw in there,” Arthur pointed out. 

“Wow,” Merlin breathed as he looked behind him to see the girl stacking the outside chairs and fading away in the distance. 

The rest of the ride was a mix of companionable silence and Merlin pointing out stupid things along the way. It had started with “Wow I wish you could see that building there” and Arthur replying with “Actually I was there when I was 6 and I sort of remember it.” Merlin then began pointing out things Arthur surely hadn’t seen like the fire hydrant “that looks pretty new.” “I’m sure they all look the same, Merlin.”

“Well I bet you haven’t seen that bike. It’s all purple with yellow flames on the sides,” Merlin said fascinated.

“You’re lying,” Arthur laughed. 

“Alright, maybe I am,” Merlin smiled.

When they got out of the cab, they were both giggling.

“Wait, so you haven’t actually heard any of their music?” Arthur clarified. 

“Nope.”

“But you bought four of their shirts!”

“They’re cool! This one has bears on it! I’m sure they’re good or they probably wouldn’t have so many, would they!?”

Morgana answered the door in a whirlwind of grabbing things from around her flat. 

“Hello boys!” she said as she grabbed her jacket from beside the door and ran to throw it in her suitcase that was wide open on the living area floor.

“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush,” she said as she kissed them both once on the cheek. They were still practically standing in the doorway; Merlin shocked still by Morgana’s flustering. 

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Arthur asked Merlin. 

“No,” Merlin laughed. “I love animals. And they love me most of the time.”

“I’ll just run and grab him for you! He’s in his cage already,” Morgana rushed by again. She came out of her room carrying a pink cage by its handle. 

She handed it to Merlin and he lifted it up to his face. “Hey kitty,” he said sweetly. 

It hissed and tried to claw it as his face.

“Woahh,” Arthur said. “Guess not all animals love you, then,” he chuckled. 

The cat wouldn’t stop hissing and Arthur put out his hand for Merlin to pass it to him. Arthur then lifted it to his face.

“What’s wrong, Mordred? Don’t like Merlin? I’m sure he’ll grow on you,” he laughed.

“Mordred? You... it’s name is Mordred!?” Merlin slapped a hand to his forehead. “Well no wonder it doesn’t like me,” he mumbled. 

“We didn’t name it. It was a rescue cat; already named. Why, what’s wrong with Mordred?”

“What? Nothing. Absolutely nothing wrong with that name,” Merlin stammered

Arthur put the cage down and faced Merlin, doing that thing with his head cocked to the side again. “You know, Merlin. You’re really bad at that. Lying.”

Merlin felt like Arthur was trying to tell him something with that and how serious he seemed. But he couldn’t figure it out before Morgana was running through, kissing her hand and tapping it to Merlin, then Arthur, then Mordred’s cage. 

“Take care. Be good. I’ll be back Thursday. Now get out so I can lock up,” she said and Arthur picked up the cage and Merlin lead him out the door.

Mordred was hissing so much on the cab ride to Arthur’s flat, Arthur had to move to the middle seat so Mordred was separated from Merlin. That calmed him slightly. 

“Merlin, I’m really doubting this whole animals loving you thing. I’ve never seen him act like this and Morgana’s had him for years,” Arthur’s voice was a mix of humour and real concern. 

Merlin didn’t even realize that Arthur hadn’t technically invited him to his flat until Arthur was unlocking the door. Should he follow him in? Or should he say his goodbyes. Merlin fidgeted with his hands as Arthur opened the door. He barely had to wait a breath before Arthur was saying, “Are you coming?”

Merlin grinned and didn’t need to be asked twice. Arthur’s flat was nice, but fairly simple. He supposed it would be easier to memorize if you had less things in the way.

“Do you mind getting his bowls from the tall cupboard over there?” Arthur asked. Merlin went where he’d been directed as Arthur lowered the cage and opened it. Mordred let out another hiss before he bolted into the next room to stretch out on the windowsill.

Merlin placed the bowls down by the fridge and asked Arthur where he kept the food. He filled one of the bowls with water and but some of the cat food in the other. Arthur was sitting at the dinner table with his arms folded, one thumb rubbing a circle into his opposite arm. 

“Mind if I make a cuppa?” Merlin asked, spotting the kettle.

“Sure. Me too, if you’re at it,” Arthur smiled, but it wasn’t one Merlin had gotten used to. It seemed nervous and Merlin knew their fun chatting was over for tonight. 

Merlin busied about the kitchen looking for mugs and tea bags after he turned the kettle on. He found the tea and turned around but bumped into Arthur who was suddenly standing very close. 

“Sorry!” Merlin squeaked and took a step back. 

“It’s alright,” Arthur gave a crooked smile, then his expression went serious. “Merlin.”

Merlin sighed. “I know. I mean I don’t know, but I know what you’re going to want to talk about. But I don’t know!” He ran a hand through his hair and held onto a chunk before letting his arm fall back to his side.

“Calm down, it’s okay. I just… who are you?” Arthur asked and almost laughed.

“I wish you knew who I was,” Merlin said sadly. “You used to.”

“What? What does that mean?” Arthur sighed, frustrated, and Merlin had no answer. He wasn’t sure how to tell Arthur any of it. He’d think him mad and kick him out, certainly.

“The other night… you said you didn’t know what I was seeing right?” Arthur asked as he sat back down at the table. Merlin was silent, so Arthur went on. “Colours,” Arthur smiled. “I haven’t seen colours in so many years, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled. “Sorry I hurt you,” he said. Because he was glad he had given Arthur something he wanted, but he wished it didn’t have to hurt. 

“You know… it didn’t actually hurt as much the second time. I mean the first time was like touching a hot element. But the second time was like sparks, like getting too close to hot embers,” he said as his mind seemed to wander. Merlin warily walked over to join Arthur at the table, completely forgetting that the kettle had boiled. 

“Just tell me what’s doing it,” Arthur whispered.

“You really want to know?” Merlin finally said. “Promise not to tell me I’m insane and kick me out?”

“Well I already think you are a bit insane, but I think anything you say will at least make me feel a bit less insane. And I promise not to kick you out,” Arthur agreed. 

“Magic,” Merlin said and waited for a response. But it meant nothing to Arthur in this day and age. It wasn’t a terrible word that reminded him of death and destruction, it was just a myth to him. 

“I’m sorry, did you say magic?”

“Yup,” Merlin nodded. 

“Show me,” Arthur said, almost breathlessly. 

“How?” Merlin asked, trying not to get too excited or desperate. He wanted Arthur to understand so badly.

“My hand,” Arthur said as he laid it out flat on the table, palm facing upward. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked hesitantly. 

“Yes, Merlin. Get on with it,” Arthur groaned.

Merlin laughed, then remembered the other night. “Can I ask you something first?” Arthur nodded. “Why did you get so upset at me the other night? You knew what would happen. You’re the one who grabbed my wrist…”

“Nothing. I just. It wasn’t the seeing things, it was something that I specifically saw. I was just confused. I promise I’ll… maybe tell you later,” Arthur half-smiled. 

“Alright,” Merlin said and laid his hand flat on top of Arthur’s. 

This time, instead of letting it catch him off guard he tried to focus on what he would let Arthur see. Arthur took in a sharp breath at the contact, but then relaxed. Merlin closed his eyes and let his magic flow through him. He thought of Camelot; the forests, the castle, the hallways, the courtyard.

“Do you see it?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Arthur whispered back. 

Merlin smiled, then slowly drew back his hand. Arthur’s smile fell a bit.

“Thank you, Merlin.”

“Can I ask you something else?” Merlin asked, wondering if it would be too much. 

“Sure.”

“Can you take off your glasses for a bit? I just want to see your eyes,” Merlin said.

“I suppose,” Arthur said, confused. He was just used to keeping them on when he was with company. 

Merlin slid his chair around the small circular table to get a bit closer as Arthur lowered his glasses. He gasped when he saw the bright blue he remembered from so long ago. 

“Thank you,” he said. He raised a hand up and almost grazed his fingertips along Arthur’s cheekbone, but he stopped himself and bit his lip.

Arthur raised his own hand and clasped it around Merlin’s wrist, then leaned forward and Merlin mirrored his action and used his other hand to guide Arthur’s jaw. Their lips met in the middle and it was too much contact at once. Merlin felt the magic burst through his fingertips, along his wrist, tingle his lips. He hadn’t had this in so long; he’d missed Arthur’s touch every day he went without it. 

“Ah!” Arthur exclaimed. He moved backward and raised a hand to rub his forehead, his eyes screwed shut. 

“Arthur! Are you okay?” Merlin asked, a bit breathless. 

“Fine, yeah. Bit of a migraine. Out of nowhere,” Arthur explained. The lowered his hand and opened his eyes again, then his mouth fell open. “Oh my God.”

“What? Arthur, what?”

“Merlin! You’re right there!”

“What? Yes? I’m here. Arthur, what?” Merlin was a bit frantic and a lot confused.

“No, Merlin. I can see you. Right there,” Arthur breathed and Merlin thought he might even cry. “Just black and white, and actually you’re sort of just an outline but you’re there!”

“Oh my God. How in the… Arthur I have no clue…” 

“It doesn’t even matter! Try it again!”

“But Arthur! What if it hurts you?” Merlin asked, concerned.

“It was just a bit of a headache. I swear, it’s not even a problem,” Arthur said excitedly. 

Merlin sighed and gave in. He sat up straight and placed his hands on either side of Arthur’s face. “Anything?”

“Nothing,” Arthur said, disappointed. “Are you trying, Merlin? Really try.”

“Yes, yes. I’m trying!” Merlin said. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic. It was thrumming, but this time it wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I don’t know. Arthur. It’s not doing anything. I don’t know how I did it,” he frowned. 

“Kiss me! You have to kiss me again.”

“No!” Merlin pouted. He wasn’t going to just kiss Arthur for some science experiment. He was a great sorcerer; he was supposed to be in control of his magic!

Arthur reached out for Merlin’s hands and held them in his own. The magic still didn’t move. 

“You wanna know what I saw that night I freaked out?” Arthur smiled.

“Yes,” Merlin said, aware he was being petulant. 

“I see you and me. Only I didn’t know it was you because, honestly, Gwen is the worst description-giver of all time and she is fired from that duty.” Merlin’s heart skipped. “Tell me why you know me, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly. 

“Because you’re Arthur. And I’m Merlin. And you died! And you left me for hundreds of years, you prat!” Merlin blurted out then bit his lip.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, honestly. 

“You’re not.”

“I am. I feel like I am. I don’t really remember yet, but I think I’m supposed to,” Arthur said. “I’m sorry I left you waiting.”

Merlin couldn’t help it as he pulled Arthur in a bit closer and mashed their lips together again. Arthur’s hands went to Merlin’s sides, and Merlin’s hands tangled in Arthur’s golden hair. He could feel the magic moving again, finally. He could feel it thrumming through every inch of his body and it was like a fluid pouring out of his soul. Merlin got out of his chair and climbed into Arthur’s lap. He fixed the angle of the kiss and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck. 

He’d missed Arthur’s soft lips so badly and he wanted Arthur to just remember, dammit. He bit at Arthur’s lip and licked into his mouth constantly thinking ‘remember, remember, remember!’

Arthur gasped and pushed Merlin back slightly. Merlin leaned back and waited for Arthur to open his eyes. When he did, Merlin saw a strand of gold sparkle and fade out. 

“I’ve missed you,” was the first thing Arthur said. “I haven’t always known it, but I really, really have.” Arthur’s thumb traced along Merlin’s lower lip. “So… red.”

Merlin couldn’t contain his smile. “It worked! It worked right?”

“It worked,” Arthur grinned. Merlin bent down to kiss him again quickly. He beamed at Arthur, who beamed right back at him. “Do you even know how fucking pretty you are right now?”

Merlin blushed. “Should’ve seen me a year ago. White hair, long beard; the works. You would’ve really loved it,” Merlin laughed and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

Arthur’s face went serious in an instant.

“Arthur, what?”

“How… the hell… am I going to explain this to everyone?”

Merlin’s mouth fell open like he had an answer, then closed shut again. 

Mordred jumped on the table and hissed.

“Alright, alright. Getting off,” Merlin said as he went back to his own seat. “Do you also remember why I might hate the name Mordred? I wonder if he was accidentally brought back as a cat,” Merlin laughed.

“Yeah, not quite as fond of it anymore,” Arthur said. “But Morgana…”

“She had her reasons, Arthur. So much happened to her. There was so much you didn’t know. I’m sorry,” Merlin said, putting a hand on Arthur’s knee. 

“I’m glad I knew though, about you I mean, before I died,” Arthur said solemnly. He picked up Merlin’s hand from his knee and intertwined their fingers. “Are you tired?”

“Exhausted actually,” Merlin said and yawned as if on cue. 

“Will you stay? I don’t think I could possibly let you leave now,” Arthur smiled at him hopefully.

“I don’t think I could bear to go,” Merlin replied.

That night, Merlin slept in his boxers and one of Arthur’s old t-shirts. He fell asleep wrapped in Arthur’s warm scent and tangled in his strong limbs. It was the best sleep he’d ever had.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year after Arthur gets his sight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took me literally forever to post. It's all done now, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Merlin always knew he’d regret it.

Arthur was currently on the floor clutching his stomach in pain. Good, he deserved it. He’d been non-stop laughing for almost ten minutes. Merlin rolled his eyes and turned the page of the magazine he’d picked up after Arthur’s laughing fit had started.  
“I can’t believe I didn’t remember that!” Arthur exclaimed as he caught his breath.

“I should have never let you rope me in to telling that story,” Merlin muttered. He blamed it on Mordred, as he did with most things. The cat had been clawing at a rather hideous dress in Morgana’s closet that reminded him of what Arthur had given him when he was the Dolma. He shouldn’t have even laughed to himself so that Arthur never would have asked what he was laughing about, because this was the price he paid. 

“I always did suspect you had a thing for women’s clothing after that time with Gwen’s dress,” Arthur said, sounding reminiscent. He was lying on his back now with a hand on his stomach as it went up and down. Merlin threw a pillow that hit Arthur in the face. Merlin giggled with satisfaction as Arthur squeaked in surprise. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Arthur smiled sweetly at him after turning over onto his stomach. 

“Are not,” Merlin pouted. Arthur got up from the floor and joined Merlin on the couch. He took the magazine out of Merlin’s hands and crawled over Merlin’s lap, a knee on each side. 

“Am too,” Arthur whispered as he nuzzled into Merlin’s neck and began placing kisses at his jaw then down his neck. Merlin sighed with content, momentarily forgetting they would be having guests soon. Arthur started to nip at Merlin’s collarbone and Merlin knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if it went any farther so he swatted Arthur off.

“Alright, alright. I forgive you! Now get off before Morgana gets back,” Merlin laughed, and rolled his eyes when Arthur began to pout as Merlin stood up. “That won’t work on me,” he glared, crossing his arms.

“Merlin, could you get the door?” Morgana’s muffled voice called from the hallway.

Merlin waved a hand in the direction of the door and it swung open. 

“Hope I haven’t interrupted anything,” Morgana said. It sometimes scared Merlin how much she knew, or at least acted like she knew. 

“Not at all,” Merlin said as he went over to help with some of the bags she was carrying. Arthur and Merlin had come over early to help set up for the party. Morgana was always throwing a party, whether it was a birthday or anniversary or something ridiculous. Merlin fondly remembered the “full moon” party she’d thrown a few months ago because she had nothing else to celebrate. 

“Arthur, dear. Get off your arse and help put away these groceries,” Morgana called out to the living room where Arthur was still lying on the couch.   
It was almost a year since Arthur regained his sight and they had to come up with an explanation for Morgana. Unfortunately, they were both awful liars, and Arthur’s idea was to continue fake being blind and suddenly yell ‘it’s a miracle!’ while walking down the street. However, Morgana was smarter than either of them, and she knew something was different as soon as she’d seen them. Merlin didn’t say anything just touched her temple with three fingers, and whispered ‘I’m sorry’.

She had collapsed and cried for about twenty minutes when she suddenly got up and hugged Arthur. “I love you, brother. I’m so sorry,” she’d told him. 

It was easy for them all to move past it. The memories Arthur and Morgana had regained sometimes seemed more like vivid dreams and things were so different now. Merlin noticed that Morgana could never be as mean to Arthur as she used to be, even jokingly. But for the most part, things went back to normal. 

It took a pretty large spell on Merlin’s part to fix everything else though. The three of them decided no one else really needed to know the truth, so Merlin cast a wide net of magic. It was hard to explain what he did, as he couldn’t exactly change history. But if some bloke who had once read an article about Arthur going blind, he might know this fact, but would happen to forget it any time he was about to bring it up.

And so life went on. And Merlin had never been so happy. He watched Arthur put away the new tea Morgana had bought. His shoulders were shaking with laughter because apparently Morgana had said something funny. Merlin came out of his trance and Arthur’s obnoxious laughter filled his ears. He couldn’t help but smile. 

Later that night, Merlin was tipsy and light headed. Arthur dragged him out to the balcony to get some air. It turns out the excuse for the party was the anniversary of Morgana and Gwen meeting and becoming best friends. Merlin giggled every time he thought about it. 

“Stop giggling like you’re a school girl Merlin,” Arthur said as they stepped out into the night air and the noise of the party faded behind them. 

“Most powerful sorcerer in history ever here, remember?” Merlin asked seriously, then started giggling again. 

“I remember,” Arthur replied, pulling Merlin’s back closely to his chest, then walking them to the balcony’s railing. They looked over the city, taking in how small and quiet it seemed; how peaceful. Arthur kissed Merlin’s alcohol-warmed cheek. 

Merlin giggled more. “We should probably do something to give Morgana something to have a real party about.”

 

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes. Morgana would never replace an existing party excuse, only add more.

“I don’t know. We should get married or something,” Merlin giggled.

Arthur froze. “Okay.”

“What!” Merlin exclaimed. “I was only… I was… you know.” His cheeks burned red even in the cool air. 

“We wouldn’t want to overshadow Gwen and Morgana’s best frien-niversary though, so maybe we should wait to tell her until tomorrow.”

Arthur was almost scared but how much he wasn’t scared. The only thing that scared him was the idea of living any more of his life without Merlin. His arms went tighter around Merlin’s waist. 

Merlin woke up the next morning with a headache and the smell of breakfast foods wafting into the bedroom. He went out to the kitchen to find Arthur busy cooking, and watched him a while until Arthur noticed him. 

“Hey,” Arthur spoke almost shyly. He walked closer to Merlin. “Do you remember what we talked about last night?” He was almost cringing. 

Merlin did remember. He felt embarrassed for what he’d said, he’d been so foolish. He looked down at his feet. “Yeah. Arthur, you know I was pretty tipsy and I can’t be blamed for –“ 

“Oh do shut up,” Arthur said. When Merlin looked back up, Arthur was on knee a few feet from him. Merlin’s mouth dropped open a little. “Please, will you just agree to marry me already?”

Merlin tackled Arthur to the floor, kissing him everywhere he could find skin. He sat up, grinning. “Yes. Definitely yes.”

Arthur pushed Merlin’s leg back so he could reach into his pocket. “It was sort of short notice, but I found these cool matching rings at the shop down the street. I don’t if they’ll fit though since I didn’t have time to get them sized. Arthur showed Merlin the matching gold rings, with a single red strand running around the middle of each. He took them and put one on his own ring finger, and one on Arthur’s. Then with a golden flash in his eye, they fit perfectly.

“They’re perfect,” he said and continued to kiss Arthur until the food was burnt and the fire alarm was set off.


End file.
